


A New Leader

by Kabal42



Category: The Hour
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-11-08
Updated: 2011-11-08
Packaged: 2017-10-25 20:08:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 300
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/274251
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabal42/pseuds/Kabal42
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarence is gone, so what now? Who leads The Hour - and Freddie?</p>
            </blockquote>





	A New Leader

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the prompt "A change of leader" given by Elfflame.  
> Drabble, 3 x 100 words.

Freddie had never contemplated what it would be like once someone knew about Clarence. He had almost come to accept the looks given to him, the conspicuous cars following him, the clicks on the telephone line. They were nothing against what they were all under now that Clarence was no longer there, had, quite frankly and disturbingly, disappeared. His protection was gone and replaced by overwhelming, yet secret to the outside, suspicion. It affected them all, seeping into everyday conversations that were no-longer about anything more than the weather, unless they were held in parked cars or other people's cupboards.

Given this, nothing should have surprised him. Bel was, of course, the one to hold her head highest, fight for (and from), the higher ground. That she had not followed instructions were now a point in her favour and she worked to repair the damages. Their new exalted leader, as Hector called her, also unsurprisingly. It was Freddie's own feeling of being a rudderless ship that shocked him. Even more so that the captain he sought and found was not Bel, as it should have been. His captain was a more physical warrior, worthy of his Troyan name, Freddie found.

His hand settled on the bare skin of Hector's abdomen, felt the muscles there, the feeling of something so solid and heavy that it was unmovable. A rock. An anchor, perhaps, if he were to continue the maritime metaphor. Hector stirred, looked at him. 'Sleep,' he muttered. 'You think too much.' Freddie's reply wasn't verbal, but it took Hector's thoughts away from sleep and his own away from anything but the weight of Hector's cock in his hand, matching the solidity of the rest of his body. Everything in proportion. A perfect counter-balance to Freddie's flighty mind and waifish body.


End file.
